No Looking Back
Title: No Looking Back
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Jono, OMC
Prompt: 43. Goodbye to You
Word Count: 282
Rating: PG
Summary: He doesn’t think Jono will actually stay gone.
Author's Notes: A prequel of sorts to my Clan Akkaba series.
Abraham Starsmore watched the dark stairway, lips pursed slightly. He could feel everyone in the town house, from the butler obsessively checking the silver to his wife in a drunken stupor in the master bedroom that he hadn’t set foot in for several years. Giving her the bedroom had gotten him a small measure of peace. At the moment, though, he was focused on the angry, restless mind of his son. Jonothon Starsmore was packing up the few things he wanted to take with him, planning to leave that very night.
It made Abraham want to laugh. Jonothon would be back; as soon as things got back, the boy would return to the embrace of his family.
Abraham and tried to leave a few times himself.
He actually heard his son come pounding down the stairs. Abraham raised his glass of Scotch to his lips, eyes narrowed as he watched the youth descend. He felt fear and excitement and determination blending together with teenage bravado in a heady mixture. There were days when Abraham really wished that he hadn’t been ‘blessed’ with empathy; he knew too much about everyone around him.
Jonothon stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his head swinging around, eyes narrowed. Abraham raised his glass to his son again in a mocking salute. “You’ll be back.”
The boy’s lips thinned into a hard line. “No,” he said, “I won’t.”
Jono walked out the door without a look back.
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Jono, OMC
Prompt: 43. Goodbye to You
Word Count: 282
Rating: PG
Summary: He doesn’t think Jono will actually stay gone.
Author's Notes: A prequel of sorts to my Clan Akkaba series.
Abraham Starsmore watched the dark stairway, lips pursed slightly. He could feel everyone in the town house, from the butler obsessively checking the silver to his wife in a drunken stupor in the master bedroom that he hadn’t set foot in for several years. Giving her the bedroom had gotten him a small measure of peace. At the moment, though, he was focused on the angry, restless mind of his son. Jonothon Starsmore was packing up the few things he wanted to take with him, planning to leave that very night.
It made Abraham want to laugh. Jonothon would be back; as soon as things got back, the boy would return to the embrace of his family.
Abraham and tried to leave a few times himself.
He actually heard his son come pounding down the stairs. Abraham raised his glass of Scotch to his lips, eyes narrowed as he watched the youth descend. He felt fear and excitement and determination blending together with teenage bravado in a heady mixture. There were days when Abraham really wished that he hadn’t been ‘blessed’ with empathy; he knew too much about everyone around him.
Jonothon stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his head swinging around, eyes narrowed. Abraham raised his glass to his son again in a mocking salute. “You’ll be back.”
The boy’s lips thinned into a hard line. “No,” he said, “I won’t.”
Jono walked out the door without a look back.